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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26178526">He Sang A Good Song</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/tillyenna/pseuds/tillyenna'>tillyenna</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Men's Hockey RPF</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - BDSM, Dom/sub, M/M, Platonic BDSM, Soft BDSM, THE SOFTEST BDSM YOU'VE EVER SEEN I MEAN</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-08-29</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-08-29</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 04:34:04</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>11,229</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26178526</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/tillyenna/pseuds/tillyenna</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Set after Madison, in a BDSM world, where management decides that sub Patrick needs a Dom to keep him in line. Jonny might be chirped a lot in the locker room for his "soft Dom" techniques, but he's not going to leave his best friends to the hands of a stranger... and maybe, just maybe, a little gentleness is what Patrick's needed all along...</p><p>THIS FIC IS NOT A BDSM HOW TO. As with all of my bdsm fics, please do not use FICTION as a guide. If you are interested in pursuing a BDSM style lifestyle or relationship then please look into some non fiction resources for advice.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Patrick Kane/Jonathan Toews</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>42</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>311</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>He Sang A Good Song</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>THE BIGGEST OF ALL OF THE THANK YOUS to <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/Alliemackenzie28/pseuds/Alliemackenzie28">AllieMackenzie28</a> for consulting and advising on this fic. Turns out it's really hard to write a fic from a Dom perspective when you're very not!Dom ;)</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span> It’s not unheard of for Jonny to get pulled into meetings before the start of training camp – he is the captain after all, but when he looks at the people sat around the table, he can’t work out what the meeting is about. The only other players in the room are Hossa, Seabs, Bollig and Oduya, there’s a couple of the trainers, but not all of them, and what seems to be a random selection of the front office staff. It’s not until his gaze falls on Lillian from Dynamic Services that he realises that the room consists of every single Dom in the Blackhawks organisation. The only people who aren’t Doms in the room are Quenneville and Bowman</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thank you all for coming,” Stan says softly, “This isn’t a meeting I ever wanted to have, and it isn’t going to be the easiest of meetings, so I’d ask you all to be tactful with keeping things in this room.” He turns to Hayley, who’s their head of PR, “Hayley, why don’t you take it from here.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thank you Stan.” She says seriously, “Now, I’m sure you’ve all seen the media surrounding Patrick from the start of the summer.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jonny freezes, because yeah, who hadn’t seen the deadspin article, and frankly Kaner had been avoiding all of them all summer since, holing up at his parents house in Buffalo. Kaner however is one of two subs on the team, the only other sub being Patrick Sharp, who’s been collared to his wife Abby for years. A lot of the media surrounding Kaner’s “excursions” was remarking about his status as a single uncollared submissive, and whether that had an effect on how out of control he was.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The organisation have obviously met with Patrick regarding this and we have come up with a couple of different solutions that would be best for optics,”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And,” Lillian cuts in, “Probably best for Patrick’s dynamic health.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>That makes Jonny tense again, because he hates the idea that they’re deciding what they think is best for Patrick, he knows that Patrick hates being told that he has to do things a certain way because he’s a sub.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Our first suggestion, which we would prefer, is that one of the Dom’s in our organisation agrees to enter into a platonic contract with Patrick, to help keep him on an even keel.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hang on.” Jonny can’t help himself, “Why isn’t Peeks here, why doesn’t he get a say in this.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I understand Jonny,” Stan says gently, “But Pat declined to be here.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jonny thinks about it for a minute and pictures Kaner stomping off in a sulk yelling that if they were going to make him have a contract with a shitty team Dom then he didn’t care who it was.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What if nobody would,” Seabs asks, “What then?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Then we would be looking for a professional to fulfil the role,” Lillian answers, “And Patrick would be on Injury Reserve until we filled that position.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Surely that’s the best option,” Seabs says, “Like, I’m not trying to be rude here, but Kaner’s a bit…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He’s certainly not the easiest sub to work with.” Lillian agrees, and Jonny knows that she’s scened occasionally in the past with Patrick, something that was supposed to calm him down and seemed to do the exact opposite.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He hears one of the ticket sales Dom’s snorting and muttering something under his breath about “brats who won’t even take a beating,” so Jonny fixes him with his best death glare.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“If that’s the best option for Patrick,” he asks, “Why aren’t we doing that.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It could take some time,” Stan starts.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m not having it,” Quenville speaks up for the first time in the meeting, “I want Patrick out there on the ice, I’m don’t give a shit what he does off it, and I don’t think taking away his ice time as some sort of punishment is just.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s not what we’re trying to do,” Stan says evenly, “You know I love Pat like a son.” It’s surprisingly honest, Jonny knows how fond Stan is of Pat since he spent his first year billeting with the Bowman’s. “We need to do what’s best for Pat, not just what’s best for the team.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What’s best for him is being on the ice.” Joel grumbles.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Which is why we’re putting this option to you all first.” Stan says</span>
</p><p>
  <span>There’s a few moments when they all look at each other, and Jonny can see what they’re all thinking, even if the twat from sales was the only one to voice it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m not sure it’s the best idea for someone from the team to do it,” Hoss says diplomatically, “Just so it’s someone who would have the time and energy to devote to him.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jonny notices the rest of his teammates nodding in agreement, and he thinks briefly of Patrick being coerced into a platonic arrangement with one of the suits, and before he realises it, the words are out of his mouth. “I’ll do it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Seabs head flicks round, “But Jonny… you’re….” he trails off and Jonny can practically see the words almost coming out of his mouth, he’s well aware of what his teammates say about his Domming style.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Let me try.” He says, beseeching Stan more than anyone else, “Even if it’s just so he can play until there’s something else in place.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Stan looks over to Lillian for her thoughts, and she gives a little shrug, and just like that, it appears it’s decided.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jonny knows Patrick must still be in the building, so he goes to find him, and as expecting, he’s in the gym, stretching, so he must have got a workout in while the rest of them were in the meeting.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“They have fun discussing my personal life?” Patrick asks snarkily.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I wish you’d told me,” Jonny sighs, “I’d have gone into that meeting more prepared to rip them to shreds.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kaner lets out a low chuckle, self-depreciating as always, “So, is my fate decided?” He flickers his eyes over Jonny, “Or rather, are you going to tell me what my fate is, assuming it’s decided, or do I have to wait to find that out from my new Dom.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Erm,” Jonny falters for a moment, “Both actually.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Both?” Kaner gets to his feet, “It’s one or the other Taze.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s both, because you can hear it from me, that I am your new Dom…” Jonny feels awkward as he says it, and his fists curl as he fights the urge to fidget nervously.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You!” Patrick lets out a startled burst of laughter, “But you’re a fucking service top Taze.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jonny shrugs, it’s nothing he hasn’t heard before, “It was me, or you on IR until they got a professional in for you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh,” Patrick tugs on one of his curls, a nervous habit, “Guess Lillian pointed out what a shit I am to scene with.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jonny shrugs, “She was the consummate professional,” he feels it necessary to tell him, “But for some reason none of the others wanted to volunteer.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“’Some reason’” Patrick snorts, “Because I’m a brat who isn’t a masochist.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re not a brat Peeks,” Jonny tells him softly, it’s an argument they’ve had in the past and it’s an argument they’ll probably have in the future.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t like dynamic play, even if I need it, that makes me a brat.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Or,” Jonny can’t resist a sly smile, he’s never been able to give this argument before, “You just haven’t had the right kind of dynamic play?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Patrick snorts at him, “Oh and Jonny Toews the service top, softest Dom to ever Dom is going to fix me with his magic dick…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jonny gives a shrug, “Something like that.” He says, “Now come on, Lillian wants to go over a contract with us.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Patrick rolls his eyes, but he follows him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The contract doesn’t take too long to set up, but Patrick’s clearly unhappy about it. “I hate that they’re doing this to you.” He says to Jonny as Lillian goes out of the room to make duplicate copies.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“To us,” Jonny reaches out and squeezes his thigh, “And I want you out there on the ice as much as you want to be out there.” He shoots Patrick a grin, “You’re my winger Peeks, I need you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Patrick rolls his eyes at him, but there’s a fond smile tugging at the corners of his mouth, starting to form his dimples, so Jonny takes it as a win.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I have some things I need to sort out, before we can do anything,” Jonny says, “Will you be ok on your own tonight? Or would you like to come and stay in the spare room at mine.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Patrick hesitates, and Jonny can see he’s wanting to invite himself over.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“After tonight you’ll be staying at mine regardless,” He grins at him. “Roadies excepted.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Then I best enjoy my last night in my own bed.” Patrick says, there’s a tension to his back and neck however that Jonny longs to make ease.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ok Peeks,” Jonny says softly, “How about you come round for breakfast tomorrow.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Patrick nods and agrees, and like that, Jonny feels his plans start to set into motion.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He doesn’t need to buy many supplies – he’s always had his own supplies in case he plays with anyone casually, mostly he needs to sort out checklists for Patrick, and to have a few hours to himself. Of course, he gets no such thing, he’s barely been back in his apartment for half an hour when Seabs lets himself in.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What the fuck Taze?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jonny shrugs, “They were going to take away his hockey.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Temporarily.” Brent shakes his head, “He’d have been ok.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Would he?” Jonny goes automatically to the fridge to pull out one of his gluten free beers, and one of the ordinary ones he keeps in for the boys, “Because I know Peeks, and I know what he’s like when you take away skating, and they’re right, Madison was a fucking cry for help.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And so you’re going to martyr yourself over it.” Brent snorts as he takes the offered beer from Jonny.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m not martyring myself.” Jonny snipes back sulkily.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m sorry,” Seabs teases, “Just agreeing to a platonic contract with your best friend who you’ve been in love with since you met him, for the good of his career, no martyring there at all.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m not sure it’s any of your business.” Jonny snaps, which comes out harsher than he’d intended.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Luckily, it slides straight off Brent’s back, “Of course it’s my business, you might be my Captain, but you’ll always be my rookie Taze.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jonny gives a sad sigh, and lets himself fall sideways until he’s leaning against Brent’s arm, “Yes, fine, it’s a little bit martyr like, but I just couldn’t stomach the idea of it being someone else.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s a bit more honest,” Seabs lets his hand go to Jonny’s hair, stroking it softly as if Jonny were a sub. “Just be careful with yourself Toes.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>When Patrick knocks on his front door, Jonny can tell he’s not feeling himself.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Lose your key?” He asks, trying to keep his tone light.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Patrick gives a little shrug, “Wasn’t sure if you’d be ok with that now.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jonny sighs softly, “OK, first thing to remember, if I want something of you Peeks, I’ll tell you – I never want you second guessing me ok?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Patrick nods.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And secondly,” Jonny tells him, “I’m doing this because I want you on the ice as much as you want to be on the ice, but I don’t want it to stop us being friends.” He flicks his eyes over Patrick, “By which I mean I don’t want you to stop being the irritating little shit you always are.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey!” Patrick objects, but there’s a smile on his face that wasn’t there before. “Where’s this breakfast then?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jonny feels a little bit of tension dissipate from his own shoulders, and he herds Patrick towards the kitchen. He’d ordered breakfast in, knowing he wouldn’t feel like cooking anything. They sit at the breakfast bar and it could almost be any other day, except that Patrick hesitates before digging into his food.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Am I good to…” he glances over at Jonny, gesturing towards his food.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Eat,” Jonny tells him, “And stop with the anticipating,” he tempers his words with a grin, hoping that will take the sting out of what is technically a criticism.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Breakfast goes smoothly after that, so Jonny is feeling calm when he leads Patrick through to sit on the couch, stacks of papers already organised on the coffee table.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh my God.” Patrick bursts out laughing as soon as he sees the papers, “Of course Captain Serious needed extra paperwork.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Fuck off.” Jonny says lightly, “It was the easiest way to work out what would work for both of us.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>To start with, he has a comprehensive list of kinks and scene based activities with checkboxes that give options for “Yes, possibly, neutral, probably not and no.” Then there are places for Patrick to describe his perfect scene, for noting scene behaviours that he considers particularly sexual, for things that he feels he needs on a regular basis, and for what his perfect Dom would look like.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re not going to like it if I answer this honestly.” Patrick leafs through the papers.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m really not going to like it if you lie Peeks.” Jonny corrects, “And just because you put down that you like something, doesn’t necessarily mean we do it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And if there isn’t anything at all?” Patrick asks quietly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jonny gives a casual shrug, “Then we find other shit that works for you.” He shoots a grin at Patrick, “Service top remember, I’m not even a ‘real Dom’” he uses his hands to make quotation marks in the air, because if his stupid reputation in the locker room puts Patrick at ease for even a minute, he’ll absolutely use it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Patrick rolls his eyes, but he goes to fill out the form regardless. While he’s waiting, Jonny switches on ‘chel, obviously NHL11, because it has him on the cover, (although he does have a secret copy of NHL10) and absentmindedly messes around on single player mode, then, when Patrick’s finished, he swaps the papers over for the controller, and lets his best friend relax while he reads through what he’s written.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Most of it he knew already, he’s know Patrick for years now, and he’s heard about his scenes with others, most of his dislikes he knows intensely – Patrick’s teased in the locker room about being a brat who doesn’t like pain just as much as Jonny’s teased about being a ‘service top’. He’s surprised how honest Patrick’s been, even though he asked for it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“One last thing,” He grabs his tablet and pulls up the website for Frate and Barrer – America’s premier collar specialists. “What are your thoughts on collar style?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Patrick frowns, “Aren’t you going to choose it?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jonny hesitates for a moment, he doesn’t know how to explain to Patrick that he doesn’t want to – that this isn’t a real relationship and not choosing the collar himself is one of his last ways of reminding himself that he isn’t getting Patrick for real. If he were to look at him and see his collar on him, it would be too much – so instead, he’d thought he’d let Patrick choose. “No,” he gives a small smile, “Not this time.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Something simple.” Patrick doesn’t seem to notice his nervousness around the question, “Like, it’ll have to be wearable on the ice.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Tags?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A quick shake of the head, “No, I don’t mind a plate like Sharpy has, but tags would be fucking annoying.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Colour?” Jonny’s flicking quickly through the filtering options.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Patrick looks at him like he’s an idiot, “Obviously black.” He rolls his eyes, “Can’t have it clashing with our gear.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jonny gives a little snort, but once he’s filtered the search results down to half a dozen options, he hands the tablet over to Patrick. “You choose then.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Patrick selects a simple collar, thick leather, but not too broad, with a plain silver plate attached at the front.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jonny hums thoughtfully, “Reckon we could get them to put the Indian head on it?” He flashes a grin at Patrick.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Fuck off.” Patrick laughs, “Just put your number, you know you want to.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>After he’s placed the order, choosing a rush order and express delivery, he wants it here as soon as possible he turns back to Patrick. “Did you bring any clothes and stuff?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Patrick looks ashamed for a second, and shakes his head.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey,” Jonny starts, “I didn’t tell you to, and remember…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Patrick cuts him off with a heavy sigh, “Yeah yeah, no anticipation.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Good.” Jonny grins at him, “I’ll give you a list of things I want you to get from yours, plus I want you to have enough stuff so you can stay here during training camp.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Once he’s handed the list over, he tells Patrick to go and get the things and to come straight back, and he sets about making lunch for the two of them.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Patrick makes quicker time than Jonny had expected, and when he opens the door with his key, Jonny can’t help but walk over to greet him with a soft hand to his cheek. “Good job Peeksy.” He grins.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Patrick blushes, and purses his lips like he’s trying not to smile. “Go me,” he mutters sarcastically, “I can fetch my own clothes.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You can,” Jonny doesn’t keep the pride out of his voice, he wants Patrick to know how proud he is of him for following his instructions, he didn’t miss the blush staining Patrick’s cheeks, and it warmed him inside to see. “And now you can come and eat lunch.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lunch is eaten the same as breakfast, and Patrick seems more comfortable sitting at the breakfast bar. “I won’t hand feed you main meals,” Jonny tells him abruptly, “It’s just not conducive to effective calorie consumption.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Patrick nods, and Jonny detects a note of sadness in it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey,” he reaches out to cup Patrick’s chin with his hand, tilting his head up so he’s forced to look Jonny in the eye, “I said meals ok? Snacks will happen on a case by case basis.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Again, Patrick blushes, but he tries to play it off with a snort and a derisive, “I don’t want to share your shitty health food snacks anyway.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jonny rolls his eyes, but carries on with his lunch. When they’re finished eating, he goes to take Patrick’s plate.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Should I not be doing that?” Patrick asks him softly, “Like, being as I’m your sub now and all?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jonny freezes for a second, “Is that something you’d like to do?” He asks carefully.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Nobody likes doing the washing up Taze.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jonny let’s a sigh of relief wash over him, “Then let me.” He says, because sure, nobody likes doing the washing up, but feeding Patrick, making sure that Patrick is looked after? Yeah. Jonny likes that.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Go through to the living room,” he tells him, “There’s a kneeler on the floor, but you don’t have to use it if you don’t want to – just pick a movie for us or something.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Patrick goes, but not without a little shake of the head, despairing at Jonny a little.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>When Jonny finishes rinsing off the plates and clearing away from lunch, he grabs a couple of drinks from the fridge and follows Patrick through and is pleased to see him kneeling quietly on the kneeler, some shitty action movie queued up on the TV.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Good job,” He tells him softly, sitting down beside him and carding a hand through his curls. “You did exactly as I asked.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Patrick snorts, but doesn’t move his head away from Jonny’s hand.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Here,” Jonny says softly, passing the Gatorade down.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why the fuck have you got strawberry?” Patrick stares up at him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jonny just grins in response. “Gotta keep my sub happy.” He says.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Patrick rolls his eyes, and Jonny can tell he’s about to mutter about service tops again, so he cuts in to ask him a question. “Tell me one thing that helps you chill out, apart from kneeling.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Erm,” Patrick thinks, and then Jonny notices the tips of his ears turning red.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m not going to judge you Peeks.” Jonny slides his hand down so it’s cupping Patrick’s jaw. “But I’d really like it if you could tell me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I like having something in my mouth.” Patrick admits quietly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Good.” Jonny praises, before he’s even had time to register the comment, “Well done for telling me, ok?” He runs his hand across Patrick’s face, his thumb swiping over his bottom lip, and it’s so proprietary and it’s everything he’s wanted, Patrick, at his feet, belonging to him. “How do you feel about my fingers?” He tries hard to keep the nerves from his voice, this isn’t something he’s ever done for a sub outside of a sexual scene, but he wants to give Patrick everything he needs.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Patrick’s grin is sudden and blinding. “Awesome.” He breathes out, and Jonny’s mind is instantly at rest, knowing he’d picked the right option.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Two?” Jonny asks, and Patrick’s nod is eager and hurried</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He hums happily as Jonny slides two fingers into his mouth, palm up so he can curl them a little to press against the roof of Patrick’s mouth.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Good boy,” Jonny grins, “Pull off whenever you need to, even if you just need to take a break or have a drink.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Patrick hums in affirmation, and then turns his head so he can lean against Jonny’s thigh without having to release his fingers.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Whilst the movie is playing in the background, and Jonny is half aware of his phone, checking when he gets new emails, his the world mostly falls away, he’s so centred on Patrick, kneeling peacefully at his feet. He hasn’t been this relaxed in a while, because whilst he’s had scenes with subs he’s picked up, it isn’t the same as just a quiet afternoon. He watches him, trying to spot any signs of discomfort, any signs that Patrick isn’t happy with what they’re doing, but the sub seems perfectly content, just like Jonny is himself.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eventually, when the movies ended, he pulls his fingers out of Patrick’s mouth, they’re wrinkled from the saliva, but honestly, Jonny doesn’t mind, and he just wipes them absentmindedly on his pants.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What do you want for dinner?” he asks softly, letting a hand stroke across Patrick’s curls.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Patrick just hums happily, nuzzling into Jonny’s thigh.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jonny feels his heart constrict, staring down at Patrick, soft and happy against his thigh, everything he’s ever wanted, and at the same time – not, because Patrick isn’t really his, he’s only doing this so he can keep his career, and that breaks Jonny’s heart. “Peeksy,” he says softly, stroking Patrick’s face, “I need you back with me baby, can you try and come up for me?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Patrick nods, still smiling, and looks up at Jonny, his eyes still glassy, blinking a few times to try and force himself to focus.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Good job,” Jonny croons, “Doing just what I’ve asked, aren’t you just the best.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>That causes a moan to slip past Patrick’s lips, and then he slams a hand across his mouth, suddenly jolting further out of his headspace.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey,” Jonny doesn’t stop stroking his hair, “Don’t hide, that was cute.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Patrick glares at him, and Jonny can tell he’s almost completely back in the room.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Now, what are we having for dinner?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Patrick shrugs, “If I suggest ordering in are you gonna bitch about the meal plans?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jonny shakes his head, “Not today,” he uses his thumb to softly stroke Patrick’s cheek, “Although I’m going to get a copy of your meal plan off the trainers so I can optimise our meals together.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Patrick rolls his eyes, “Of course you are,” he snarks good naturedly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Any preferences on what I order?” Jonny asks, and then seeing the look in Patrick’s eye, “And yeah, if you ask for pizza this is probably one of the few times I’m going to agree to it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Fuck yeah.” Patrick grins, broad and open, “Pizza.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jonny rolls his eyes, but stands up off the couch, letting his hand trail across Patrick’s hair one last time, “I’m going to go order,” he says, “I want you to stretch out your legs while I do that.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Patrick nods, and rolls slowly off his knees, and Jonny can see him working the stress out of the joints as he goes to call the delivery place.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They eat dinner on the couch, and watch another movie, this time when they’ve finished eating however, Jonny doesn’t make Patrick kneel, just has him lie with his head in Jonny’s lap so Jonny can gently stroke his curls, he’s always had a bit of a thing for Patrick’s hair, and if it means getting gel on his fingers, he’ll put up with it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It’s early, when he declares it bedtime, but Patrick doesn’t argue, “You gonna make me work out tomorrow?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Of course,” Jonny grins, heading towards his bedroom.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Patrick hesitates for just a moment, but Jonny notices straight away, “You’re in with me Peeksy,” he says resolutely.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Patrick nods once, and then follows him through.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Brushing their teeth side by side is just like being on a roadie, so it’s not unfamiliar and strange, but it is a little weird to be climbing into bed beside each other. He watches as Patrick goes immediately for his phone as usual however, the second they get into bed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m going to train you out of that,” he says softly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Patrick frowns at him, but doesn’t put his phone down.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Blue light before you sleep…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“… is bad for your sleep hygiene.” Patrick rolls his eyes, “I know Toes.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jonny shakes his head fondly, but when Patrick puts his phone down only five minutes later he mutters a quiet “Good job,” before telling Patrick to go to sleep.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>For a few moments, he lies there, listening to Patrick toss and turn, before he sighs, and rolls over, landing on top of his teammate, sprawled half across his back, pinning him to the bed. “Go to sleep Peeksy,” he says softly in his ear.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Can you…” Patrick starts to ask, and then trails off, clearly unsure about asking.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ask.” Jonny tells him, “I won’t judge.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Stay like that.” Patrick’s voice is so quiet that Jonny has to strain to hear him even with their faces so close together.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Of course,” he presses his nose to the back of Patrick’s ear, “I’m not going anywhere.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Training camp starts the next week, and it’s nice to back into the rhythm of things. Surprisingly, on the first day the boys don’t say anything about Jonny and Pat, even though they must all know, and Jonny wonders if management had spoken to them – it isn’t like they’re in a normal relationship, this is something mandated by the team, perhaps if it were different there would be chirps.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Patrick’s collar arrives on the second day of camp however, and when he walks in wearing it, Sharpy’s on him in an instant. “Let me see,” he grins.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Patrick rolls his eyes, but stretches his neck to let his friend have a good look.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Nice taste To-es.” Sharpy</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Wasn’t me,” Jonny says absentmindedly, “Peeks chose it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Of course, everyone else in the locker room falls about laughing at that, and Jonny gets tape balls thrown at him and hollers of what a service top he is. It just rolls off his back like it always does, but he sees Patrick’s shoulders tense a little, and thinks about bringing it up later.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He doesn’t have to however, because when they get home from practise, all it takes is a quiet, “You did good at camp today Peeks,” for Patrick to completely lose it at him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What the fuck is wrong with you Taze!” Patrick’s whirling around and snarling at him. “Why the fuck do you think you can help me when you’re not even a real Dom.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey,” Jonny says calmly, holding out both hands, palm up, “Let’s talk about this ok?” He swallows down his own feelings of insecurity, logically he knows that Patrick’s hurting and he’s only lashing out because he’s hurting, but it doesn’t mean the words don’t sting.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ugh,” Patrick sighs in frustration, “Sure, talk so you can tell me what a great job I’m doing as a sub and how perfect I am.” He rolls his eyes, “Except you’re not actually using me as a sub, you’re just doing all the things that I want.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jonny sighs and runs a hand through his own hair, “I like doing the things that you want.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“But you have needs to!” Patrick all but yells, “And part of me being your sub is you using me for those needs.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jonny wants to pull him up on his phrasing so desperately, but he bites his tongue.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Like, if you want to spank someone, I need it to be me that you’re spanking.” Patrick exhales in exasperation.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You don’t like being spanked.” Jonny reminds him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I know.” Patricks sighs in frustration again, and Jonny can see the tears well up and catching on his lower lashes, “But I also don’t like not feeling wanted.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ok,” Jonny says, reaching out and grabbing Patrick by the wrist and tugging him towards the couch, “You’re telling me you want me to plan out a scene that is all my favourite things to do to a sub, and do them to you whether you like them or not.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Patrick nods, “Is that weird?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jonny gives half a shrug, “No, not really. I need you to promise that you’ll safe word if you need to though.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Always,” Patrick says honestly, “Like, I can’t take a lot of pain or humiliation, but I’ll put up with it for you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jonny shakes his head, because he can see that Patrick’s already decided in his mind what he thinks it is that Jonny wants, “I need another promise,” he says softly, and then, before Patrick can ask what it is, “I don’t mock your kinks,” he reaches out to stroke a thumb across Patrick’s lower lip, “So you don’t get to mock mine.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Obviously.” Patrick frowns, and then, with a cheeky grin asks, “Are you going to dress me in lingerie?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jonny grins back, because whilst that would be quite the sight to see, it isn’t on his list of things to do, “You’ll just have to wait and find out.” He says, before getting up to go and start on dinner.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>After they’ve eaten, he turns to Patrick, “You good to start now?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Patrick shrugs.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Just remember,” Jonny tells him, “You safe word if you need to, ok?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Patrick rolls his eyes, but nods again.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jonny grins, and goes to the kitchen to get the first of his supplies, “Your first task is putting the TV on,” he calls over his shoulder as he leaves.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>When he’s back, Patrick’s got the latest episode of gossip girl queued up and a cheeky grin on his face. Jonny thinks about telling him to change it, after all, this is his scene, but he sighs, and sits down on the couch without saying anything about it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span> “Am I kneeling?” Patrick asks.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No,” Jonny says decisively, “Head in my lap please.” He sits back down, putting the bowl of trail mix beside him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I hope that’s not to share.” Patrick glares at it like it’s personally offended him, “Because you know I think your nut to candy ratio is appalling.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Shhh,” Jonny strokes his head softly, and starts the TV playing. It’s nice, quiet, peaceful almost, Patrick’s engrossed in his TV show, and Jonny’s sort of paying attention, although he finds it ridiculous and doesn’t really follow the plot. He’s popping occasional nuts and fruit into his mouth, and the first time he gets to a rare piece of candy he grins, and pops it into Patrick’s mouth.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Patrick twists his head to look up at him quizzically, but Jonny just presses a finger to his lips and whispers “Shhhh,” making Patrick roll his eyes, but turn back to the TV.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>After the third time, Patrick speaks, “Are you just feeding me the candy?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jonny hums, “Maybe.” He can’t keep the grin off his face, “You like it.” He says, a finger trailing down Patrick’s neck, “So don’t complain.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Wasn’t complaining.” Patrick huffs softly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>When they’re at the last ad break, Jonny gently steers Patrick’s head off his lap, “Finish your show,” he says, “I’m going to go set a few things up.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Patrick nods, and Jonny can see a little nervous tension in his brow, so he smooths his hand across Patrick’s hair. “You can safe word at any time, ok Peeks?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Patrick hums, but then turns his attention back to the TV when the adverts end, so Jonny feels confident to go and start the rest of the evening. He runs the bath while he digs out the bubble bath from the back of the cupboard – it’s not something he ever uses on himself, but he likes spoiling his subs. He also grabs out various shampoos and conditioners, he’s read a lot the past few days on how to properly wash curly hair, and everything he’s read says conditioner only, but he’s still not sure on how effective that will be. He puts his fluffiest towels on the towel warmer and lights a few candles, turning the main light off so it’s just the dim light of the candles. He grins at himself in the mirror, and then shakes his head a little, but damnit, he’s enjoying himself.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>There’s a soft knock on the door, and Patrick’s voice, “So, erm, the show finished, and I didn’t know if you wanted me yet.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jonny opens the door, beaming, “You’re good Peeksy,” he says, reaching out to drag him inside the bathroom by the wrist, “You did good.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Patrick looks at the set up and frowns, “Am I going to be your towel boy?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Nope.” Jonny grins again, and then tugs lightly at Patrick’s t-shirt. “Strip for me.” It’s the first time he’s actually instructed Patrick to get naked, everything they’ve done so far has been fully clothed, but it’s not like they don’t see each other naked several times a day.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are you serious?” Patrick asks, glancing over towards the bath.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You said whatever I wanted to do to you, I could.” Jonny reminds him, “This is what I want Peeks,” his voice is perhaps a little sterner than needed, but he wants Patrick to understand that he’s not doing it for him, he’s doing it for himself. “Either you strip, or you safe word.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Patrick sighs, but pulls his t-shirt over his head and slides out of his pants and boxers in one fluid movement. “Shall I…” he gestures to the clothes on the floor.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Leave them.” Jonny tells him, “Go and get in the bath.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How hot is it?” Patrick asks tentatively, and Jonny briefly wonders what he’s been made to do by other Dom’s that he worries Jonny will be putting him in a scalding hot bath.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You can test it first.” He tells him, “And I’ll add more warm or cool if you need.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Patrick sticks his hand in the bath, and then, slowly, climbs in, sliding down in amongst the bubbles. “Surprised there aren’t rose petals in it.” He chirps with a grin.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jonny rolls his eyes, “Maybe next time,” he tells him, “If you’re good.” He grabs Patrick’s clothes off the floor, “Stay put, and I’ll be back in five.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>By the time he gets back with a steaming mug of herbal tea in his hand, Patrick’s slunk down so his shoulders are in the water, his eyes closed, head tipped back. He fits better in the bath than Jonny ever has done, his shoulders are narrower, his legs shorter, and Jonny can’t help but grin at the sight. “Hey,” he says quietly, alerting Patrick to his presence.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Patrick cracks an eye open, “I can’t remember the last time I had a bath that wasn’t full of ice.” He admits. “What’s in the bubbles?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Lavender,” Jonny tells him, “A little chamomile.” He holds out the tea to Patrick, “Taste this and tell me what you think.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Patrick takes a sip and hums happily, “Tastes better than your hippie nonsense usually does.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jonny grins fondly, and pulls out the stool he keeps to sit beside the bath tub. “It’s passionflower,” he tells him, “With a little honey.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Passion flower?” Patrick raises an eyebrow, “You trying to rile up my passions Taze?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jonny laughs, “It’s actually a very soothing herb,” he tells him, “Despite the name.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Patrick grins back at him, and takes another sip, “Either way,” he says, “It’s good.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jonny lets his hand trail absentmindedly in the water, swirling patterns around while Patrick finishes his tea. They don’t talk, but it’s not an uncomfortable silence, just quiet and relaxed, lit by the glow of the candles. Once Patrick’s handed his tea over, Jonny puts the cup down, and reaches a hand to Patrick’s head, “It’s hair washing time.” He says with a grin.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Patrick groans, but doesn’t argue, letting Jonny push his head towards the water, and tilting his head back so only his face is peeking out amongst the bubbles. Jonny wants to take a picture, but he knows he can’t so he just tries his best to commit the image to his memory.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He sits Patrick up, and works various products through his curls until he’s happy that they’re clean and soft. “Time to get out,” he tells him, standing up and grabbing a towel off the rail.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Patrick is sleepy and relaxed, so he happily lets Jonny wrap him in one enormous towel, using another to dry off his curls.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Go through and lie on the bed,” Jonny tells him, he’d already put a towel out for this exact purpose, “I’ll be through in a moment.” He drains the bath, and blows out the candles as quickly as he can, before following Patrick through to the bedroom, to find him face planted on the bed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Good boy.” He says softly, trailing a hand down Patrick’s spine. “Exactly where I wanted you.” He grabs the massage oil he’d place on his dresser and starts warming some between his hands before he smooths them over Patrick’s shoulder blades.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Patrick lets out a little groan, “You know I got a rub down at the rink yeah?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jonny can’t help but scoff a little, “This isn’t a ‘rub down’ peeks,” he tells him haughtily.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ay Ay Captain,” Patrick chirps, perhaps a little sleepily, and turns his head so he can grin at Jonny.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jonny smiles fondly back, and continues smoothing his hands over Patrick’s taught muscles. He loses himself for a while – he’s been wanting to get his hands on Patrick since he met him, and he’d never thought he’d have the chance. When Patrick’s breathing has gotten deep and even, he finally lets up, stroking once last time down his back. “You sleeping Peeks?” he asks.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Patrick hums and shakes his head slightly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Good,” Jonny says honestly, and then grabs the clothes out of the top drawer of his dresser. It’s one of his oldest t-shirts, and a pair of his sweats, and they’ll be far too big on Patrick, but he likes that. He helps Patrick into them, moving his limbs for him when it seems like he’s moving through treacle, before going to sit against the headboard of the bed. He lifts up an arm, “Come here,” he says softly, and Patrick grins and crawls in for a cuddle.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>For a moment, he indulges himself, just letting his hands stroke through Patrick’s now clean curls, run across his jawline, and down his neck, but then he remembers that he’d wanted to teach Patrick something. “How spacey are you?” he asks.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Only a bit.” Patrick murmurs against his neck.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Still think I’m a soft Dom?” Jonny asks with a grin.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The softest.” Patrick replies honestly, “You are so fucking soft it’s unreal.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jonny hums, and lets his fingers slide down Patrick’s arm, “And yet,” he whispers like it’s a secret, “I think you’d do anything I asked right now.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Patrick huffs out a little laugh, “Anything,” he admits, “Like, want me to fucking kill a man? Because I can do that for you Taze.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t need anything from you except this,” Jonny tells him, giving in to all of his urges and pressing a kiss to the top of Patrick’s head, “But for me, this is real power.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Patrick lifts his head and looks at Jonny, confusion evident on his face.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Eh,” Jonny grins, “Scaring someone into submission is easy,” he explains, “It’s not hard to make someone so afraid of you they’ll do what you say.” He runs a finger lightly up the back of Patrick’s neck, “But this, this is so much better.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Patrick chuckles for a moment, looking up at Jonny, realisation on his face, “You think you’re a better Dom than literally anyone else ever, don’t you?” he asks.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You don’t?” Jonny can’t help but reply.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Patrick hums, and then grabs Jonny’s other arm, wrapping it around his body so Jonny’s cuddling him properly. “The best.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The next day, at camp, Patrick is on fire, and Jonny can’t help but lean against the boards and watch him deke around their PK team in a scrimmage.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Quennville skates quietly over to him when the play is over and the others are grabbing bottles of water. “Whatever you’re doing to him?” He says with a grin, “Keep it up.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He’s not the only one to notice it, Seabs claps him on the shoulder as the head into the locker room. “Service Top or not,” he teases, “You’re working wonders with Peeks.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Fuck off.” Patrick flicks his middle finger up at the pair of them, “That’s all me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jonny just raises a quiet eyebrow, “Sure thing Peeksy.” He says with a grin.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Still, it seems to assure Patrick that Jonny’s style of Domming isn’t necessarily the worst thing in the world, and starts to follow Jonny’s instructions with fewer questions, lets Jonny tug him towards a bath, doesn’t fuss when Jonny wraps him in warm coats, even though it’s barely fall.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Of course, when the season starts, tensions ramp back up again, and Jonny can’t help but worry about Patrick’s state of mind, and when their second game starts up their usual round of yelling on the bench, he wonders briefly about holding back. But Patrick’s wrong, and Jonny doesn’t care what the most effective play of ’94 was, it isn’t relevant to today, it’s not until they get into the locker room after the buzzer signals the end of the game and he finds Patrick kneeling by his stall that he suddenly realises that he probably did go to far.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey,” he stroke a hand through Patrick’s sweaty curls, “You good?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Patrick offers a one shouldered shrug.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Let me rephrase that,” Jonny says quietly, sitting down and leaning forward so he can talk to Patrick quietly without the others overhearing, “Do you need me to put you down now, or can you wait until we’re home?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Patrick chews on his lip, “I figured you’d want to…” he trails off, and then tries again. “I disrespected you,” he says quietly, “Sort of publically.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And?” Jonny grins at him, “Are you expecting me to punish you Peeks?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Again, Patrick gives half a shrug, “I mean…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Do you want me to?” Jonny asks, “Because Peeks, I don’t want to discourage you arguing with me on the bench.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You don’t?” Patrick’s staring up at him, his baby blues wide.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Peeks,” Jonny can’t help but slide a hand round to cup the back of Patrick’s neck, “You challenge me, you make me a better Captain, never fucking stop.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh,” Patrick’s fighting back a grin, “Ok.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Now get up, and go shower.” Jonny tugs lightly on a curl, “I’ll follow you through in a sec.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He’s not paying attention to the rest of the room while he strips, they aren’t his problem, not in the same way Patrick is, but as he walks through to the showers, he hears one of the rookies swearing.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Like fuck, he really isn’t a proper sub is he.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It almost makes Jonny freeze in his tracks, because he can cope with the boys chirping him about not being a ‘proper Dom’, because honestly, he couldn’t care less, but the fact they also say this stuff about Patrick. He meets Patrick’s gaze, and it’s clear that his teammate has heard it as well.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Eyes to yourself,” Patrick snarks, but it’s tired, and there’s no heat behind it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Let’s just go home.” Jonny sighs, stepping under the spray of the water.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sharpy tries to pull Patrick to one side before they leave, but Jonny feels the need to step in for once, he knows that Sharpy’s only doing it out of love, but he also knows that Patrick always feels like less of a sub when stood next to Sharpy, who’s like the poster boy for Brats worldwide.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Not today Sharp,” Jonny says softly, steering Patrick towards the door by the elbow, “You can talk to him tomorrow.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sharpy pauses, but nods, and steps away, and thankfully nobody else seems to want to talk to either of them, and they manage to slip away with minimal fuss.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>As soon as they get through the door, Jonny finds his hand going back up to Patrick’s neck. “I need you kneeling Peeks,” he says, “Are you good for that?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Patrick nods, “Like, fuck yes.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Good,” Jonny grins, “Go kneel for me, I’ll make us something to eat.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He puts together sandwiches for both of them, but grabs a bunch of fruit, more because he wants to hand feed Patrick than because he actually wants to eat it. When he gets through to the lounge, Patrick is on the kneeler, head bowed to rest on the cushions of the couch.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh there’s my good boy.” Jonny sighs softly, going to sit down beside him, threading his hand through his hair, “You’re perfect Peeks.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Patrick mumbles softly into the cushions. “You only like me because I’m not a real sub.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jonny sighs, because he’d known that was coming, “Tell me,” he says, passing Patrick his sandwich, “Tell me what makes a sub real or not.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You know what I mean,” Patrick takes a mouthful of his sandwich, “I don’t take punishment well.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And punishment is all a sub is good for huh?” Jonny lets his finger’s trail across Patrick’s cheek, “Because I like my subs to be more than just an outlet for frustration.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s not….” Patrick frowns at him, “Some subs need punishment.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“But not you,” Jonny tells him, soft, but stern, “You don’t need punishment and you especially don’t need punishment for this. Anytime you think you do need punishment, you can come to me, and we’ll work out whether I agree that you need punishment – but that’s not for you to decide.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Patrick nods, “And you really don’t care?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Don’t care that you’re perfect?” Jonny reminds him, “Of course not, Peeks, that would be ridiculous.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Patrick just grins up at him, mouth full of sandwich, it shouldn’t be an endearing sight, but it is.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Listen Peeks,” Jonny feels the need to tell him, “I think you’re a perfect sub ok? You do everything I ask of you,” he strokes his hand through Patrick’s hair.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, not quietly though.” Patrick rolls his eyes at himself, “Like, I bitch and whine about everything.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And that’s good,” Jonny grins, “Can you imagine how boring my life would be if you didn’t?” He shakes his head, “You’re perfect Pat, I don’t care what the others think.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Patrick sighs, but rests his head against Jonny’s thigh, and Jonny thinks that this might be something he needs to tell Patrick over and over again, but eventually, it might just get through.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Shootouts are thankfully, pretty rare, because when they happen, they’re stressful. Of course, Patrick is always chosen, he’s their star shooter, there’s no-one better than him, but when they lose because his puck chips off the post, Jonny can feel his frustration.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They’re straight on a flight after the game, which doesn’t help either, and Sharpy’s drawing him to one side.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Look Toes,” Sharpy says, voice low, “I know you’re all soft Dom new age bull crap, but Peeks is gonna need some sort of punishment for that.” He glances over towards where Patrick is already sat in his seat, ball cap pulled low over his face, “You can tell he’s already beating himself up over it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jonny nods, because Patrick is, “Can you check for me, make sure nobody has a problem with me doing it on the plane?” He’s not sure of Patrick’s ability to not destroy himself over the plane ride.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sharpy nods, and disappears off to chat with people, while Jonny slides into the seat beside Patrick.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hand please Peeks,” he says softly, reaching out to lace their fingers together.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Patrick’s hand is shaking, “I’m…” he starts to say.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Not yet,” Jonny says, “Wait until we’re in the air.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It’s the longest take-off has ever seemed, especially since Sharpy’s managed to talk to the whole team, so they’re all half watching Jonny out of the corner of their eyes, some with more subtlety than others, desperate to see what kind of ‘punishment’ their famously soft Captain is going to deal out.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>As soon as the seat belt sign shuts off, Jonny undoes his own seatbelt, and reaches over to undo Patricks. “You can do this on your knees if you want,” he says softly, “But I’d rather have you on my lap.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Patrick nods, and climbs over to sit on Jonny’s lap, his head resting against Jonny’s shoulder.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Good boy Peeksy,” Jonny gives him a small smile, taking his cap off so he can stroke his hair. “Now, can you tell me what you think is about to happen?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re going to punish me.” Patrick says, a note of sadness in his voice.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Am I?” Jonny can’t hide the amusement in his voice, “I thought we’d talked about anticipation, but maybe we need to have that chat again.” He tugs on one of Patrick’s curls, “What am I going to punish you for eh?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Patrick rolls his eyes, but answers obediently, “I fucked up on the shoot out.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah?” Jonny asks him, “How?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Patrick sits up to look Jonny in the eye, “You were there Taze, you watched it go off the post.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s what happened,” Jonny puts a hand on the back of Patrick’s head to steer his head back down to his shoulder, “I want you to tell me exactly what you did.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I missed.” Patrick pouts, “I hit the fucking post.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Again,” Jonny sighs, “That’s what happened, tell me what you did.” He gives Patrick a clue, trying to get him in the right direction, “Did you shoot too early?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Patrick shakes his head, “No, timing was good.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Too far out?” Jonny presses, “What about the angle, was the angle ok?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Distance was ok,” Patrick confirms, “Angle was sweet.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why didn’t it go in?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Patrick’s frowning and Jonny can see him replaying the attempt in his mind.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I think it must have caught something on the ice.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Did you know about the snag in the ice?” Jonny presses.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Patrick shakes his head, “No,” he looks up at Jonny, “You know we aren’t allowed to inspect the ice around the goal, like, that would just…” he trails off, as if he can see the cogs working in Jonny’s mind.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Still, Jonny wants to push it just a little further, more for the benefit of his other teammates than for Patrick’s benefit. “And you didn’t think to take the Zamboni out before the shoot out?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Patrick rolls his eyes, “No Taze, I didn’t.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jonny hums, “What happened in the shoot out?” He asks again.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Bad bounce,” Patrick answers honestly, and Jonny can feel that it’s already sitting a little lighter.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Who’s fault?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Patrick snuggles into him, “Not my fault Taze.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jonny gives a little hum of satisfaction, stroking down the side of Patrick’s neck, “You’re my good boy Peeksy,” he tells him softly. “Such a good boy.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Patrick lets out a relaxed sigh, all the tension from earlier gone and buries his face in Jonny’s neck, “’m your good boy.” He agrees.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>For a few minutes, it’s just the two of them, Jonny softly stroking Patrick’s curls, until Sharpy slides across into Patrick’s now vacated seat.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Did you just brain him into submission?” He stares at Jonny, eyes wide.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jonny shrugs, “He didn’t need punishment,” He tells his teammate, loud enough for not only Sharpy to hear, but for the other’s he’s sure are eaves dropping, “He just needed to stop feeling guilty.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“’m not guilty.” Patrick mutters sleepily.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Because you did nothing wrong.” Jonny reminds him with a quick kiss to the top of his head.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Jesus,” Sharpy rolls his eyes, “Like, that shouldn’t work.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And yet…” Jonny can’t help the smug grin that slides across his face as he gestures down at the cute sub curled up in his lap.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It’s a few weeks later, and a bunch of the core guys are hanging out at Jonny and Pat’s, and Jonny starts to notice Patrick getting twitchy. He wonders over to him, wrapping a casual arm around his shoulder, “You need to kneel?” He asks.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Patrick doesn’t answer, just stares at the floor, “I don’t wanna…” he glances over his shoulder at the rest of the guys watching Duncs and Seabs battling at Mario Cart.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Doesn’t matter what they think,” Jonny reminds him, “Let me deal with them.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Please.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jonny grins, “Good boy,” he praises, “Well done for telling me, I’m proud.” He shoves Patrick back towards where he’d been sitting, “I’m gonna grab another drink, get your kneeler out ok?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>When he settles back into his seat, with Patrick kneeling at his feet, there’s a couple of raised eyebrows from their teammates, but nobody says anything. Still, Patrick’s shifting uncomfortably, and clearly not settling into his headspace, so Jonny taps on his lower lip with two fingers.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>With a happy grin, Patrick opens his mouth, and lets Jonny slide his fingers in, humming happily, and resting his head against Jonny’s thigh.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He’s facing towards Jonny, so it takes a while for the others to notice, but it’s Sharpy who brings it up.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Dude,” He says to Jonny, “Are you guys really doing foreplay while we’re all here.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The fuck?” Jonny splutters, “Not foreplay…” he gestures down at Patrick, “You remember the bit where this is a platonic thing yeah?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sharpy snorts, “That doesn’t look very platonic.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Patrick clearly hears him and pulls off Jonny’s fingers, a guilty look flashing across his face.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No.” Jonny tells him, dragging him back towards him, “You carry on,” he stares down at him seriously, “You’re not doing anything wrong Peeksy.” He taps his mouth again, “Now be a good boy and open up.” Then he turns his attention back towards Sharpy, “And don’t make me call your wife and tell her that you’re disrespecting my methods.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I mean…” Seabs speaks up, “It’s kind of sexual… if Duncs was sucking on my fingers, that would definitely be a sex thing.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s not a sex thing.” Jonny sighs, “Look, there’s a pressure point on the roof of your mouth, and it makes you feel more chilled out if you press something on it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Really?” Duncs pauses the game and shoves a finger in his own mouth.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jonny laughs softly, “You’ll need to press up,” he tells him, “It’s easier to find with your own thumb,” he explains, “And you just rub the roof of your mouth.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Duncs frowns, but then after a few minutes of experimentation, starts to grin, “It’s pretty chill,” he mumbles around his thumb.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So that’s how you Dom?” Sharpy frowns, “Mind games and pressure points?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It’s Shawzy who pipes up, “He’s like a Vulcan Dom.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The fuck?” Everyone turns to stare at him in confusion</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You know,” Shawzy waves his hand around, “Vulcan nerve pinch, obsessed with logic and stuff…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Eh,” Jonny grins, “Maybe.” He takes the hand not in Patrick’s mouth and uses it to softly stroke the top of his head, “Regardless, it works.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sharpy’s frowning, “So it’s not a sex thing?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jonny sighs, “I can’t believe you think that I’d be having sex with Patrick.” He stares at them all, “Management told me I had to Dom him.” He shakes his head in disbelief, “I couldn’t take advantage of him like that.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sharpy frowns, and Jonny tuns his attention back to Patrick, who now has some tension in his shoulders, and he wonders how long he has to put up with their teammates in their space before he can kick them all out and give Patrick the nice soothing bath he deserves.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Can we do lunch?” Sharpy grabs him by the arm before they’re leaving practise, “Just you and me?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jonny hesitates, before he nods. “There’s leftovers in the fridge,” he tells Patrick, “Heat those up or order in if you’d rather.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Patrick gives him a cheeky salute, and he relaxes a little, “Sure thing,” he says to Sharpy.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sharpy rolls his eyes at him, but leads him out to his car regardless.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They’re sat down at a quiet table when Jonny nudges his friend with his foot, “What’s this about?” He asks, it’s obvious that Sharpy has something on his mind.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You and Peeks.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jonny frowns, “I think we’re doing good.” He says honestly, “It’s helping him, look at how much more stable he is this year compared to last year.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sharpy lets out a frustrated huff, “That’s not what I meant,” he shakes his head in exasperation, “You’re really not sleeping with him?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Of course not!” Jonny stares at his friend, and for a moment he wonders what he might have done that Sharpy could think he were that kind of person, “I’m not going to take advantage of him like that.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t think it would be taking advantage.” Sharpy says softly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jonny frowns, but the waitress appears to take their orders, so he doesn’t say anything back.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I mean it,” Sharpy continues as soon as they’re alone, “If you asked him, I know he’d be glad to.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jonny rolls his eyes, “Of course he would,” that’s not a surprise to him, “I’m the first Dom who’s ever actually listened to his boundaries, he’d do pretty much anything for me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s not my point.” Sharpy sighs, tired, but his expression is nothing short of fond, “Our little peek-a-boo has been gone on you for years.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Don’t be ridiculous…” Jonny starts.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Just talk to him about it.” Sharpy says, “Because sure, things are good with the two of you right now, but think about awesome he could be if he had a Dom for real… had you for real.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It plays on Jonny’s mind, and when he gets back to his apartment to find Patrick curled up in a corner of the couch, happily munching on the pizza that was definitely not on his meal plan, he resolves to talk to him about it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Can we talk?” He says as he sits down.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Patrick looks down at the food on his plate, “You said I could order in,” he points out defensively, “And you definitely didn’t say I couldn’t order in pizza.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m not about to tell you off for the pizza Peeks,” Jonny grins, “I knew you’d order it as soon as I said you could order in.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh.” Patrick relaxes and then takes a huge bite, “What then?” He asks, his mouth stuffed full of food.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Talked to Sharpy over lunch.” Jonny says, which is perhaps a little redundant, but he needs to ease himself into the conversation as much as he needs to ease Patrick into it. “He had some opinions on our relationship.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Patrick rolls his eyes, “Of course he does,” he swallows his pizza, “Bet he thinks there should be more spanking, Sharpy loves a good spank.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No…” Jonny says tentatively, “But he did think that maybe you’d be interested in more than a platonic arrangement.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Patrick shrugs, suddenly seemingly utterly absorbed in looking at his pizza, “Is that a problem?” He asks, “Because I know it’s not what you want, and like, I know that, and I’m ok with this, really I am, I don’t need anything more from you.” He looks up at Jonny, his eyes wide and beseeching.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Peeks,” Jonny slides closer on the couch, “What makes you think I wouldn’t want it?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Patrick shrugs, “You said so the other day, you said you were only Domming me because management said you had to.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s,” Jonny can’t stop himself from reaching out to stroke softly down Patrick’s cheek, “I know you’re only with me because management forced you Peeks, that’s why I wouldn’t take it further. I chose you,” he bites his lip, “I stood up in that meeting and chose you because I couldn’t stand the idea of another Dom with their hands on you, I’ve never been able to stand that thought.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh,” Patrick grins shyly, “I mean, I’m definitely ok with it being more than platonic,” he blushes a little, “If that’s what you’d like.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are you sure?” Jonny asks, “Because I feel like you’re only saying that because I’m the first Dom who hasn’t pushed you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Jon,” Patrick laughs, “I’ve wanted you for years, I just figured that you’d be like everyone else, that you’d want a proper sub.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jonny sighs, “How many times,” he inches even closer, “You are a proper sub Peeks.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Patrick nods, “I’m your proper sub.” He says with a smile, and then suddenly, puts his pizza plate on the floor and climbs into Jonny’s lap. “I want this Taze. I want us.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jonny nods, and buries his face in Patricks neck, “Anything you want,” he tells him, “Anything you want, I want to give you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Can I kneel for you?” Patrick asks,</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Always.” Jonny answers honestly, “Always.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Patrick slides to his knees, kneeling between Jonny’s thighs instead of beside him like he usually does, “Can I have something in my mouth?” He asks sweetly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jonny nods, and holds out his fingers, but Patrick blushes, and pushes them away, nuzzling against Jonny’s thigh, dangerously high, “I was thinking about maybe something else?” He looks up at Jonny through his lashes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Fuck,” Jonny swears softly, “Really?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Please can I suck your dick Taze?” Patrick asks with a cheeky smirk.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jonny gives a fond smile, “You’re sure?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You want me to beg for it?” Patrick grins, “I’m sure Taze, I’ve wanted this for so long.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jonny nods, and then his hands go to his fly, he’s already half hard just from the thought of it, and the cool air hitting his cock makes him shiver as he pulls it out. “Knock yourself out,” he says softly, leaning back against the back of the couch.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>If he’d thought having Patrick kneeling at his side sucking softly on his fingers was heaven, he’d been mistaken, because this, Patrick kneeling between his legs, sucking on his cock like there’s nothing he’d rather be doing, looking up at Jonny through his pale eyelashes with adoration in his eyes, is absolutely heaven.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Later, he ties Patrick to the bed, and takes his time worshiping every inch of his subs body until Patrick is shaking and shivering beneath him, utterly driven out of his mind with pleasure.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jonny holds him while he comes back to himself, pressing soft kisses against his mouth and telling him what a good boy he’s been.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Your good boy,” Patrick tells him with a grin. “Definitely your good boy now.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jonny hums, and then traces a finger along Patrick’s collar, “How would you feel about a new collar?” At the confusion on Patrick’s face he goes on to explain, “My collar, one that I’ve chosen.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Patrick grins, and gives a little happy wriggle in Jonny’s arms. “Awesome.” He says, stretching up to press a kiss to Jonny’s mouth, “Very awesome.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It takes longer to order than the first one had, and Jonny won’t tell Patrick anything about it, other than no, it won’t clash with his jerseys. However, when it arrives, he can’t wait to put it on him, tugging the old one off as quickly as he can, before he opens the box to show Patrick his new one.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s so thin,” Patrick says softly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He’s not wrong, it’s made of a light suede, barely leather at all, closer to fabric, soft as butter to touch, in the palest grey, dark red stitching marking the edges, and JBT19 embossed on the front. No tag, no plate, and no buckles.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How does it fasten?” Patrick asks.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I sew you into it.” Jonny says, he can’t keep the pride out of his voice, “It’s not coming off Peeks, once it’s on, it’s on.” He pauses, “Like, obviously, if it needed to come off for safety reasons it’s thin enough to cut, or tear with enough force.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s perfect.” Patrick whispers reverently. He drops to his knees at Jonny’s feet, baring his neck. “Please.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jonny grins, and goes to fasten him into it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Of course, as soon as they’re at practise the next day, the boys notice.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What the fuck is that?” Seabs stares at him, “Like, is that even a collar?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s my new collar,” Patrick pouts, “And I happen to like it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re weird.” Bollig stares at Jonny, “Like, what’s the point in a collar if you can’t hook your finger under it and haul a sub around by it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Don’t need to.” Jonny smirks.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What?” Seabs laughs, “I love you rook, but seriously, you never want to do that thing where you force a sub to press themselves against you by tugging on their collar?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jonny shrugs, and shoves his hands pointedly in his pockets, “Peeks,” he says quietly, “Come here.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Patrick drops his t-shirt that he’d been in the middle of taking off, and walks over to stand in front of Jonny.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Closer.” Jonny says softly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Patrick grins, realising the point that his Dom is about to make, and presses himself up against Jonny’s torso, “Like this?” He asks breathlessly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jonny grins down at him, “Fucking perfect Peeksy.” He bends down to give him a quiet kiss. “You’re perfect.” He smirks over at his teammates, hands still in his pockets. “See,” he grins, “No force needed.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Seabs rolls his eyes, “No need to be so smug about it Taze.” He says with a grin.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He should be smug,” Patrick says, still staring up at Jonny, still pressed against his torso, “He’s definitely more Dom than the rest of you are.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He’s a fucking service top,” Sharpy laughs.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah.” Patrick turns and flashes his best friend a grin, “And apparently, that’s the best kind.”</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>come find me on tumblr if you want to talk about hockeys or give me bubble baths and spoil me like jonny spoils peeks ;)<br/><a href="https://www.tumblr.com/blog/princesstillyenna">@princesstillyenna</a></p></blockquote></div></div>
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